


At First Sight

by weirdfishy



Series: fishy's flash fiction friday fills ;) [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Descriptions of Blood, Descriptions of murder, Murderer!Reader, Other, and it's slightly non-linear with C'est la vie's plot, descriptions of violence, flash fiction friday (88), for flash fiction friday, prompt: at first sight, this is a sort of companion piece, to my other work- C'est la vie - but I wrote it, unbeta'd we die like emily in s7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29817285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdfishy/pseuds/weirdfishy
Summary: Emily's reaction to the scene that you left.WARNING: technically a companion piece to another work of mine, but the precedent is that You murdered someone. While the team was able to find you, they were too late. He was dead, and you were on your way to the hospital
Relationships: Emily Prentiss/Reader
Series: fishy's flash fiction friday fills ;) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191836
Kudos: 4





	At First Sight

Emily shivered, gritting her teeth and pressing her lips together against the bile that wanted to force its way up her throat. _God. This- this is- how could they- god._ Emily turned on her heel, mechanically walking out of the kitchenette, taking off a glove to throw up into it as she made her way into the bathroom. It was a mistake. 

The sink was pink with diluted blood, the floor was red, and bunches of blood-soaked hair were scattered over it all. Emily forced the acrid taste in her mouth back down, wincing mindlessly as she saw the dripping handprint on the side of the glass shower wall and saw the glint of glass on the floor, a small chunk of flesh attached with the blood. She squeezed her eyes shut, her gloved hand rubbing circles into her hip in a feeble attempt to comfort herself, before opening them and speed-walking out of the apartment entirely, giving one of the clean-up crew both her gloves. _Why the hell had she thought this was a good place to break down._

Reminding herself to breathe, Emily circled down the stairs- once, twice, before turning into what she knew was an empty apartment. They were all empty, a drab brown and beige cell block of rooms and creaking parts. The only room that didn't creak was wet with a damning stain of deep red Emily didn't want to think about.

She didn’t close the door, her supervisor would need to find her sooner or later, but she sat hunched in the corner with the wall against her back, her arms crossed over her bent knees. Her hands were shaking, and even though her hands were clean, they felt soaked. Emily ducked her head- now she couldn’t see anything except the image of the kitchenette.

At first glance, it was glaringly rust-red. The entirety of the floor seemed to be impossibly slick and shiny to be the blood of one man, even creeping up the walls and jumping onto the counters. There was an obvious struggle, the trail of gore paving a route of revenge throughout the entire apartment. If Emily looked closer, - and she did, it was her job to pick up every detail - there were pieces of flesh she didn’t want to consider, and a body so disfigured it didn’t look human.

Emily knew who it was though. Garcia had read his name on the way to the abandoned block, Rossi whispering it along, misery lining his throat and his eyes shining with tears seen through the car's mirror. They had all heard Garcia say Carfil had just got out on parole for some bullshit excuse. They all heard Rossi say who his victims were and who his victims left behind.

The scene was raw, and angry, and highly disorganized. Not organized and neat like everything leading up to it, like the building’s emptiness, _hell_ , the area’s emptiness; the way none of the team had been able to glean anything from brief and forgettable interactions, the entire turmoil and mental crack that had happened right under their noses, just- _god_. Nobody noticed until it was _too goddamn late_ , and now there was the haunting ring of ambulance sirens in her ears, the image of a victim taken to death with brutal, practiced strength in her mind, and the ache in her chest because she still-

_She loved you._

Emily straightened herself out, her fingers brushing her badge as she moved to unholster her gun. The click-click-click of parts unlatching and soft thump of hard material on cheap carpet desperately scrabbled for her attention, her fingers deft as they unlatched, relatched, aimed, saw a bleeding, _smiling_ ~~target~~ _friend_ in her mind’s eye. Bile threatened to burn through her, and she stared out of the window across the room from her. Emily’s fingers moved mechanically through the motions, and only stopped when someone thumped along the hallway, appearing in the doorway.

His face was worn, and appeared to be sunken in more than what it had been in the past couple hours it had taken them to find you. His tie was clenched in his hand, some of it wrapped around his knuckles as scraped skin peeked through. Emily looked down from his face, her hands finding the pieces of her gun before replacing them with practiced efficiency. When she looked up, her gaze going from toe to top, she noticed the blood on his sharp black shoes, the tremble in his torso, the hard set of his jaw that was too sturdy to be anything but holding everything in, and the utterly devastated and detached haunt in his eyes. Emily almost flinched, but she quickly tore her gaze away to fasten in her gun, walking past her boss to walk down the steps - all the way this time, a sunken skeleton following.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
> you can find the original post on tumblr (with slight differences) [here!](https://weirdfishy.tumblr.com/post/643635711574147072/flashfictionfridayofficial-word-count-495)
> 
> kudos and comments are always welcome and oh-so-very much appreciated! 💚💚


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